Time in a Box
by sherridin
Summary: A one shot about the original five Hank, Bobby, Jean, Warren, and Scott opening a 10 year old time capsule.


Note: Set in the current times (although Jean's back).

Time in a Box

-sherridin-

Something's wrong.

Bobby Drake can practically feel it in his bones.

He broke into a slow jog down the hall, heading towards the war room.

"I'm here, I'm here," Bobby announced, "What happened?"

Warren, sitting on a chair with his feet propped on the table, looked at Bobby and then addressed Hank sullenly, "Goody, now that we're complete, can you finally tell us the 'big secret'?"

"Huh?" Bobby didn't know what to expect but it certainly wasn't a cheerful, giddy Hank.

"Hank wants to tell us something exciting," Jean explained.

"Huh? So there's no trouble? No mission or anything?"

"Nope."

"Did you know that I left my date for this?" Bobby asked accusingly.

"Did you know I left the movies for this?" Warren grumbled.

"And did you know that I left the library for this?" Jean said with a grin. "So thanks Hank."

"Ah, believe me, you'll all get as excited as I am, after I divulge this juicy piece of knowledge," Hank replied brightly.

Warren shook his head blankly. "Which is?"

"Allow me to reminisce, my friends. It's been ten years since we, including Scott, have met, formed the X-men, and forged a strong friendship. And it's also ten years ago, in this exact same day that we preserved our memories in time with the hopes of uncovering them again."

Hank paused dramatically.

"Hannnkk," Warren warned.

"Fine, fine, what I'm driving at is that 10 years ago we gathered together under a full moon to plant a time capsule under the oak tree."

There was a second of silence as the three sifted through their cobweb of memories.

"Oh!" Jean exclaimed softly. "I remember. It was so long ago."

"A time capsule. I left my hot date for a stupid time capsule," Bobby sulked.

Hank continued, "We made a pact to open it ten years later."

"How the heck did you remember that? Scribbled it on your diary or something?" Warren asked.

"Even better, I set an alarm on my watch to remind me," Hank replied gleefully.

Warren raised an eyebrow. "You have a 10-year-old watch that reminds you stuff?"

Jean snorted. "Knowing Hank, it can probably control the microwave and operate the lawnmower."

"Actually it's tied with the TV, internet, and the Blackbird."

Warren dropped his eyebrow. "Of course it is."

"What about Slim? Why's he not here? That's unfair" Bobby grumbled.

"Scott's heading back from Shanghai as we speak. He'll meet us at the oak. Now my friends, shall we?"

An hour and four gaping holes later, Bobby, Hank, Jean, and Warren stood around the great big oak, muddied and covered with dirt.

"I'm not having fun anymore," Bobby singsonged, throwing the shovel down.

Hank jabbed manically at the watch that failed him. "I don't understand. According to my watch, it's 6 paces southwest from the tree."

Warren looked at the 5-foot hole they had dug at that spot. "Nope, definitely not there."

Jean exhaled. "Then where is it? We've practically dug a trench."

"Maybe it's the wrong tree," Hank mumbled.

"But it's the only friggin' tree in this side of the field!" Bobby answered exasperatedly.

"Well, maybe it's just not there anymore," Warren said quietly.

They fell silent.

"Bummer." Bobby sat down defeated.

"Can't find it?" Scott snickered, walking towards the group.

"You think this is easy? You try it!" Bobby grumbled.

He looked on with surprise as Scott's lips twisted into a smile. "It's not there because that's not the same tree."

"Yeah right." Bobby scoffed. "How can it not be the same tree?"

"When the mansion was demolished by the sentinels, the tree was struck down. This one's a new tree I transferred."

"You've got to be kidding me," Warren muttered.

"I planted it in a different spot because the soil of the old spot would be less fertile."

Scott walked five steps from the tree's right. "The old tree was here. Which means the capsule –" he walked a couple more steps – "must be here."

Warren tossed the shovel to Scott. "Stop smirking and dig it up."

They watched in tension filled silence as the hole was dug.

Then came a sound of the shovel connecting with something solid.

Bobby grinned. "All right! Finally."

They watched as the dirt gave way to a big metal box.

Scott lifted it up and laid it on level ground.

***

A few minutes later they were in the brightly lit kitchen, ready to divulge the items.

"Ready?" Hank asked.

"Just open it!" Bobby exclaimed.

Hank paused and said sweetly, "I thought you're not interested with this 'stupid' time capsule."

"Boys, if you don't open the damn box now, I'll personally blast it open," Jean threatened.

"You heard the lady," Warren commented.

Hank set the box at the middle of the table, unclasped it, and fully opened the lid.

All five leaned towards it in a hushed excitement.

Bobby gasped.

"I remember this!" He took out a dirty looking baseball. "It's the ball that went through the Prof's window, remember?"

"How can we forget? He made us clean the danger room for a week," Jean answered.

"Hey, look," Warren said as he held up a video tape and read the label, " 'Danger Room training session no. 58.'"

"I think Scotty insisted on that one," Hank recalled, "He wanted the future-us to see how we used to train."

Scott argued, "I think it's interesting to see our tactics change over the years."

"Yep, sure," Bobby teased.

"Twinkies!" Hank called out in delight as he seized the plastic that held the cake bar.

Warren laughed at him. "Twinkies? You put in Twinkies?"

"I think Twinkies is an important icon in the American culture that should be recorded in history," Hank sniffed, "Besides, it's part of an experiment to see if the Twinkies will remain edible if I put it in this special plastic bag – my invention of course."

"Cool," Bobby proclaimed. "Let's eat it."

Warren grabbed the baggie away. "The old me would let you eat this 10-year-old, molding Twinkie, but I'm a much better person now."

Jean straightened the rolled up newspaper. "This is the date when we buried the box."

Scott peered over her shoulder and pointed at an article:

"Mysterious bolts of electricity struck Barlow Street around 2:00 am. Officials say it came from a malfunctioning power generator, but Rodney Brown, the sole witness of the incident, claimed that a yellow suited man was the source of these electrical bolts. He also claimed to see a group of vigilantes with advanced weaponry take the man down. Brown stated: 'One of those guys even made a huge 8 feet tall ice barrage!--'"

"Hey, that's me!" Bobby exclaimed proudly.

"We were so anonymous then," Hank mused.

Jean exclaimed, "Look, War, it's your little black book!"

Warren groaned as Bobby and Hank grabbed for it.

"I made you throw this in, remember? I wanted to reform your old playboy ways." Jean recalled.

"Actually, he only complied because he had a bigger little black book," Hank remarked.

"Thanks a lot Hank."

Jean playfully punched Warren's arm. "Can't say I'm surprised."

Bobby began to read from the black book. "Liz Brooks, Shelley Peterson, Lena Ramirez, ahh, Lena, she's the Puerto Rican hottie. Maybe I can call her up."

"You know what would be a good idea?" Hank asked slyly.

"What?" Jean asked.

"We can give this to Bets! Let's see if-"

"Give me that!" Warren snatched the book.

Jean took a piece of cloth with stitches on it and smiled. "It's one of my telekinetic exercises. I had to stitch a pattern under a time limit."

Bobby looked at the spiral pattern. "That's how Phoenix started out? Cheesecloth stitching? That's funny. Hey, this thread's crooked."

Jean smacked Bobby's head.

"What's this?" Warren took out a small pouch and spilled its contents.

"Bottle caps?"

Scott cleared his throat, "Uh, that's mine. I used to collect bottle caps."

"Used to?" Jean asked slyly with a knowing look in her green eyes.

"Bottle caps?" Warren made a face.

"That's just sad," Bobby remarked.

"It's a nice hobby," Scott retorted.

"It's my term paper about the effects of FMR1 protein to the CGG repeat of the human cell!" Hank exclaimed.

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "The effects of what to the what?"

"Bottle caps and term papers. They need to get out more," Warren commented.

Jean rummaged around. "Shoelaces--"

Bobby grabbed them. "Mine! They're my lucky shoelaces."

"Hamster ball--"

"Dinky!" Hank and Bobby exclaimed.

"He was such a good pet. May he rest in peace."

"Red spandex--"

"That's my Avenging Angel costume!" Warren exclaimed grinning at the memory.

"Yellow ribbon."

"Whose yellow ribbon is that?"

"Jean?"

"Not mine."

Warren cleared his throat. "That's…that belonged to Candy…"

"She used to tie it in her hair," he murmured. He felt at that moment transported back in time.

Bobby glanced at his roommate.

Jean laid a hand on Warren's arm. "You okay, War?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied, absent-mindedly coiling and uncoiling the ribbon. "It was so long ago…"

Hank took out a worn-out book. "Art of War. Yours Scotty."

Scott flipped open the book that had pages dog-eared and highlighted with yellow marker. It was his bible then.

Then remembering suddenly, Scott flipped the pages to look for something.

He stopped when he saw a stem of daisy pressed in between the pages.

Scott took out the fragile pressed flower and held it out to Jean.

"I can't believe it's not falling apart yet," he mused. "Remember when I said I'll give this to you one day?"

Jean's eyes widened in faint surprise. Then she smiled ruefully. After a failed marriage, she didn't know what to make out of it.

Jean took the daisy with an unexpected ache in her heart. "You used to be so shy, Slim. You couldn't even ask me out on a date. You gave out little gifts and gestures instead."

Averting her eyes from Scott, Jean studied the flat, fragile petals of the daisy. "Strange huh?"

"I know," Scott murmured.

He placed her in such a high pedestal then - afraid to touch her, afraid to get rejected. But they took a chance, and it was a decision he never regretted. But then things went wrong and now, well… now, they're just messed up.

At the bottom of the box was a piece of cardboard.

Hank picked it up. It was a photograph of the five of them in their blue and yellow uniforms.

They crowded around it.

"Stars and garters, I look so different," Hank exclaimed, looking at his once more beastly form.

"Is it me or was my hair thicker before?" Warren asked suddenly.

"I don't know, but same old vanity to me," Bobby quipped.

"We looked different," Scott remarked.

"Of course we did. We aged," Bobby replied.

"Or in my case, we evolved," Hank said.

"We looked so skinny," Scott added.

Jean studied the photo carefully and had to smile. All four looked so boyish.

Warren was dashing with his charming, dimpled smile and golden hair.

Hank was more beastly in appearance, giving him a less dignified, but more youthful look than his now feline form.

Bobby looked scrawny and had a goofy smile on his face.

And Scott, who wasn't smiling, looked gawky and yet mature for his age.

Jean couldn't help but glance at her boys in the present. They're so different now.

Their faces are more chiseled and angular. Lines are much more defined as if their usual facial expressions left imprints on their faces. Fatigue and worry had given them a somber look, even on Bobby who never did retire the role of being the class clown.

Time has hardened them. But it wasn't just the age that had changed.

"I think we looked happier then," she said softly.

There was a collective pause before Hank put an arm around her. "Well, if you really want to know, Jean, you're prettier today than you were ten years ago."

Jean leaned at his embrace. "Aw, Hank, you really know how to make a girl feel better."

Scott looked at Jean. What Hank said was true. She's one of those women who ages beautifully, even overshadowing her younger self with the confidence and grace that can only be acquired through time. It's the same vibrant hair, beautiful face, warm smile…but her eyes, Scott thought, her eyes weren't as bright.

"Umm.." a voice said tentatively, "good morning."

They looked at the door where a gangly fourteen-year-old boy in jogging pants was staring at them with wide eyes, looking a bit intimidated.

"Hello, Tom," Hank greeted warmly. "Is it breakfast time already?"

The boy nodded.

"Danger room practice?" Bobby asked Tom.

Tom nodded again. "We have to be there by 5 AM sharp, Mr. Darke sir."

Hank chuckled. "You know we're aging when you hear someone address our Bobby as Mr. Drake."

"Hey, I like 'Mr. Drake'."

"So who's handling the training today?" Warren asked.

"Logan, isn't it?" Jean guessed, "He's the one who likes early call times."

Tom nodded. "And he gives us 10 push-ups for every minute that we're late."

"Isn't that a bit too strict?" Warren asked raised eyebrow.

"Naw," Bobby replied, "Scott's worse."

Other kids began trickling in the kitchen.

"You guys want to get some breakfast outside?" Warren asked.

"Harry's!" Bobby exclaimed.

Jean brightened at the thought. "Yes, Harry's."

They walked out, forgetting the worn-out time capsule sitting on kitchen table.

"They're the original five right?" a girl asked in a hushed, reverent tone.

"Uh-huh, and I got to talk to them."

Hank smiled as he heard the exchange and draped an arm around Jean and another at Bobby.

And just like a normal morning a decade ago, they headed to Harry's.


End file.
